


Technicolour Beat

by VanillaKiss



Category: BTOB
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Character Death(s), POV First Person, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 04:32:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19124653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanillaKiss/pseuds/VanillaKiss
Summary: The story of a cold January day and what happened afterwards





	Technicolour Beat

We met on a cold January afternoon.

 

In front of an old basement door.

 

I was sitting on the stairs, not thinking about the possibility of someone living there.

"You're in the way," someone said, gently kicking my back.

When I looked up, I met cold brown eyes. I shivered. It felt like I was being sucked into the emptiness that they held. _Empty and cold. Lonely._

They were like a cold winter night. A foggy air, a cloudy sky where the stars can't be seen.

"Sorry, do you live here?" I asked, standing up.

Even though I stood a few steps below him, I was still taller than him. He didn't answer my question just walked past me and took out his keys to open the door. Before he went inside, he glanced at me over his shoulder. He pressed his lips together, his gaze was intense and so cold I felt like the blood in my veins froze at that moment. He tsked and went inside, closing the door behind him.

At that time I had the weirdest thoughts. I was still young, only a freshman without dreams and goals in life. I was at the age when most people feel lonely. However, I don’t think I was lonely. I might felt misunderstood but that’s youth for you.

 

We met again. A week later. In a laundromat. I was living alone in an apartment close to my university. My washing machine hadn't been working for days so I had to go and wash the dirty clothes in a laundromat near my apartment.

I went late at night. There was no one there beside me and a girl. She couldn't be more than four or five years older than me. She was texting someone the whole time. Sometimes she laughed out loud then looked at me and blushed, putting his hand on his mouth.

I was sitting in front of the washing machine, listening to the music that was played in there. It was an older song. I knew because my mother used to sing it while she was cooking.

Then the door opened.

And he came in.

Our eyes met. They were the same as before. Cold and empty. He went to the washing machine next to mine and sat down next to me. It wasn't a big place but since only three of us were there, he could have chosen any other washing machine. He could have sat somewhere else.

I felt how the atmosphere around us became awkward. Or maybe it was just me who felt like that. Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe he didn’t remember me. I suddenly became too conscious of his presence. He made me feel uneasy.

I glanced at the girl, I'm not really sure why. Maybe I was hoping she could help me somehow. She was already about to leave.

_Great,_ I thought.

I'm still not really sure what made me feel about him like that. Something in me said it would only cause problems if I get involved with him. Well, not like he was a classmate or a neighbor I would run into every day. He was just a stranger I met once before. I ran into the same people every once in a while on the bus or in the store. It was a natural thing. That's why I knew I shouldn't be bothered by him as much as I was.

His phone rang, breaking the silence. He answered the call. I imagined his voice rough and just as cold as his eyes but it was gentle. And not just his voice. As he spoke, he played with his button on his coat and a soft smile appeared on his face. It was a bad habit of mine, but I liked watching people. I’d always tried to imagine what kind of person they must be, what they liked, if they were listening to music, I wondered what music they were listening to or what kind of music they liked in general.

_He's probably talking to someone precious to him,_ I thought, looking at my feet. It was a short call, he just promised to buy shampoo and something to eat when he's heading home. _So he must be living with someone,_ I wondered. I couldn't imagine how living in that basement could be. Was it healthy? Didn't the water get in there when it was raining? And what if the whole building collapses? Why was he living there? Did he have enough money? _So many questions._

"You're the guy from the other day, right?" he started. I could feel his gaze at me. "The one who was sitting on the stairs."

I nodded, my heart beating loudly. So he remembered.

"Why were you there?" he asked. He didn’t sound angry or annoyed, only curious.

"I-" I looked up finally to meet his eyes. The coldness was still there but not as intense as before. "I didn't know someone was living there," I said. "I had a petty fight with my parents and I just wanted to be alone. And as I was wandering around, I somehow ended up there."

"Did you make up with them?" he asked.

I tilted my head in confusion.

"You and your parents? Did you make up?"

"Ah, yes, I think? Neither of us apologized but we're speaking to each other now," I lowered my head. "You see, my relationship with my parents hasn't been the best lately. They've been nagging me ever since I moved out." I don't know why I told him. Maybe I just wanted someone to listen to me.

"Same here," he said and crossed his ankles in front of him. “My relationship with my parents isn’t the best.”

"Do you-" I paused.

"Hm?" He turned his head toward me.

"Nothing," I shook my head.

"Ask it. Starting and not finishing it just makes me more curious," he scowled.

I folded my hands in my lap. "Do you live there? In that basement?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"How old are you? You don't seem that old."

"Twenty-one."

"What?!" I yelped. "You-" I narrowed my eyes and pointed at him. "You're only a year older than me."

"Really?" He didn't seem surprised or interested. It was just an empty reaction.

"Are you living there alone?"

"Yes." Then who was that person he just talked to over the phone?

"Since when?"

"Since I turned eighteen."

"And what about your parents?"

"Who knows. I haven't seen them in ages."

I felt pity for him. I'm not sure why but I pitied him. He was only a young man, living in a basement alone.

There was a lot of warning signs that told me not to get too close to him. I just ignored them all.

I opened my mouth to say something but he was faster. "Just don't ask. We don't know each other. There is no need for you to know more about me."

He didn't say more. I just sat there, deep in thought. I didn't know what to think about him. He was a mystery to me and I, for some unknown reason, wanted to solve him.

When I left, I felt a sudden relief. I felt like I was underwater for a long time and now I finally reached the surface and could breathe again. I didn't look back, just walked away.

 

And when I thought I'd never meet him again, he came to the bookstore in which I was working. I just started university and moved out when the semester started so I badly needed money. It was a friendly place and I liked working there. The owner of the store was very nice and he even allowed me to use the books for my assignments.

"Wha-" He looked at me. "You-"

I was still new there so I didn’t know he frequently visited that bookstore. "Yeah, haha," I scratched the back of my head. It was so uncomfortable. I didn't want anything else just to disappear. "We keep running into each other again and again, huh?" I forced a smile.

"It's annoying," he tsked.

I watched him as he took out the money of his wallet and handed me. He looked so small and fragile. The opposite of the atmosphere that was surrounding him.

"Do you like reading?" I asked, not sure why I wanted to start a conversation with him. We didn't know each other and there was no reason for us to know each other better. He was a customer with whom I happened to meet twice before.

"Yeah," he replied and turned around to leave.

  
After our third meeting, I caught myself thinking about him more and more. I still couldn't forget those cold eyes from the first day. When I went somewhere I kind of hoped we'd run into each other again. However, it just didn't want to happen.

And when I almost gave up, he came again and bought two books. One of them was the continuation of the last time bought fantasy book, the other one was a thriller.

"What's your favorite genre?" I tried, glancing at him carefully.

He rolled his eyes. "You like asking unnecessary questions from strangers, huh?"

"But we aren't strangers," I shrugged. "We already met for a few times."

"Yeah, and there is this old man who lives in one of the apartments above me and we meet every week but we're still strangers." His eyes were cold as the first time.

"Have you two ever talked?" I asked.

"I said good morning to him once but he called me disgusting," he said.

"What? Why would he call you disgusting?"

"He caught me making out in front of the building with a guy I was going out with at that time," he replied. He looked like he was waiting for my reaction. Maybe he was expecting me to agree with that old man.

"I wouldn't talk to him either after that," I said. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

He frowned. "You're weird," he said, putting the books into his bag. "Anyway, I have to go now. See you next time, I guess," he cleared his throat and left.

 

And we met again two days later, just not in the bookstore how we imagined it. It happened in front of a store. I wanted to buy food after work.

We bumped into each other at the door. He tsked and almost dropped one of his bags. When he looked up without knowing who he bumped into, he could've killed with his eyes. When he realized it was me, yeah, his eyes remained the same.

"Hey, it's you again," I said, giggling.

He sighed. "Great."

I looked at his bags. He had one in each hand and both of them looked heavy. I knew I shouldn't do what I was about to do but I just couldn't stop myself.

"Can I help you?" I reached out one hand.

"No," he said and walked past me.

I ran after him and took one bag out of his hand. He opened his mouth to protest but closed it eventually. We walked side by side in silence. The uneasiness I felt at the laundromat was still there. It was like a warning sign but yet again, I ignored it.

I wasn't sure what was coming was something very bad or just a slight change in my life. This man was a mystery and a part of me wanted to solve him. I didn't know if in the end I'd get hurt or it'd be him who'd get hurt. Or if there'd be anyone who gets hurt. Still, something in me wanted me to stop and not get closer to him.

The sky was grey. It just stopped snowing. The air was cold, I couldn't feel my cheeks and my fingers were numb.

"Thank you," he said, lips pouting and furrowed his eyebrows. His cheeks were red because of the cold weather just like his nose. His big coat made him look smaller. He looked somehow _cute_.

"Oh?" His door opened and a man peeked out.

_Ah, his boyfriend,_ I thought, feeling something I couldn't name. Or I was just being afraid of giving it a name.

"Changsub hyung!" The owner of the apartment didn't look too happy about the other man being there.

That was when I realized I learned his boyfriend's name before his. I already knew some things about him but not the most important one: _his name._

"Who is he?" the man named Changsub asked, studying me with curious eyes.

"Go home," the other man, whose name I still didn't know, didn't bother to answer the question. "You always come unannounced," he grumbled.

Changsub just laughed. "Okay, okay," he rolled his eyes. He ruffled the other man's hair and to my greatest surprise, the shorter man smiled gently and blushed. At that moment I was certain this man was his boyfriend. But I still couldn't understand why he told him to go home. It was me who should’ve gone home.

We waited outside until he left. I wanted to ask him who this person was but I thought it wasn’t something I had to know. _Maybe I shouldn't get involved with him after all,_ I thought as we said goodbye to Changsub.

"Come in," he said, turning toward me and taking the bag out of my hand. "I can make you hot chocolate. I'm an expert."

I frowned. "No, I don't want to-"

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside. "You've been asking unnecessary questions ever since we met but now that I invite you over, you suddenly don't want it, huh?" he tsked. His cheeks were still red, his fingers on my wrist were cold. "Look, I think both of us know that our meetings are literally inevitable." He looked away. “Maybe hot chocolate or whatever wouldn’t be that bad once in a while.”

I nodded. He was right. After taking off my shoes and coat, I followed him into the kitchen. The basement apartment was bigger than I imagined. It had a kitchen, a bathroom and a living room with a bed in the corner behind a wooden partition. There were books everywhere. Some on the kitchen counter, some on the table, some on the ground next to his bed, some on the couch.

"It's cozy," I said out loud. It really was. However, I felt like _something was missing._

"Hm?" He placed the two mugs in front of us.

"You know, when I first sat on the stairs, I didn't even imagine someone was living here," I said, playing with my mug.

"Yeah, I noticed." He smiled. That was the first time he smiled at me. Even though it was a weak attempt, it was still a smile. The corner of his mouth turning up, his voice sounding playful. Only his eyes remained the same. Like a part of him wasn't present. "You are not the only one, don't worry. Though, the other people didn't bother to talk to me again even if we saw each other after that."

“I’m pretty persistent, I guess,” I shrugged. "Also, I'm sorry but if I remember well, and you know, my memory is pretty good," I smirked at him, "it was you who initiated a conversation when we met for the second time."

"I-" He looked away again, embarrassed. "Was it me?"

"Yes, it was you," I laughed.

He glanced at me. "I hate that smug look on your face."

He truly was a mystery. One moment he was cold, then he suddenly acted friendly.

"Was he your boyfriend?" I asked.

He put down his mug on the table. "No, he's just a friend. He sometimes shows up unannounced but he doesn't live here or something." I sighed, relieved. He noticed it. "Why did you ask?" he smiled smugly. It was probably the same as mine just a few minutes ago. "Don’t tell me! Are you-?" he put a hand on his lips and giggled.

"Shut up," I grumbled and hid my face behind my hands. “I am not.”

“Yeah, yeah,” his voice was playful. He drummed on the table. "Are you a student?" he asked.

"Yes. You?"

"No, I'm working," he said.

"Do you like reading, huh?" I took a book into my hand and read the title. _The Unbearable Lightness of Being._

"Not all of them are mine," he said but his face twisted like he regretted these words as soon as he said them. He cleared his throat. "You work in a bookstore. Does that mean you also like reading?"

"Ah, no. I wish I could say that, though. I sometimes envy those people who just pull out a book of their bags and read on the bus or just go to a café to read alone."

"If you get interested in reading, just tell me, I can recommend you some books."

_Books,_ I noted. _He likes to talk about books._

It was like a normal conversation between two people. We talked about my university and what I wanted to do after I graduated but he didn't say anything about his work and I didn't ask. He didn't talk about himself at all.

The door closed behind me and I realized I forgot to ask the most important question: _what was his name?_ Yet again, we said goodbye with knowing more about each other, except for the names.

 

We only met at the bookstore. He didn't invite me over again and I didn't want to intrude into his apartment or his life. I noticed how he was keeping a certain distance from me. But this just made me more curious. He was like a light and I was a bug.

There usually weren't many people around that time at the bookstore when he came so I could observe him as he was choosing books. I noticed that he first walked around the whole store, eyes focusing on the titles. Sometimes he stopped and took one or two books in his hands to read what was written on their back. Sometimes he pouted and furrowed his eyebrows, or even grimaced. He also murmured something to himself. Then he went back to the books he decided to buy and came to the counter with a satisfied smile. It was a funny but very endearing sight.

Slowly I grew fond of him. I also learned his name the next time we met after that afternoon with the hot chocolate. _Jung Ilhoon._ I asked him when he was paying for a book. He told me he also wanted to ask mine as soon as he had a chance.

Every time we met, we greeted each other and exchanged a word or two. He recommended me books just as he had promised me and I started reading all of them. I thought reading the same books he read would help me get to know the real him. When I had time between lectures or at the store, I read. I was kind of desperate. I wanted to know him. I wanted to broke into his shell to find the real him.

At that time I didn't know how to call this feeling. _I was interested in him._ This was the first time I was this interested in someone. However, I was afraid. I had a feeling that the closer I get to him, the further he gets away from me.

The only thing I learned from the books he recommended was that he never read romance and didn't like books that were focusing on the main couple more than the actual plot. He read literally every genre so I guessed he must be very smart and could talk about every topic that came up in a conversation.

 

"Have you had dinner?" he asked, studying the books he bought earlier at the store.

I just closed the store and was about the go home when I ran into him on the street. He said he went to drink with his friends and was just heading home. He might have drank, but he wasn't drunk. He wasn't even tipsy. Either he didn't drink that much or he had high alcohol tolerance.

"No, I haven't," I replied and couldn't hold back a smile. Usually, it was me who asked him if he wanted to eat but he always turned me down.

"Come, my treat," he said and began to walk, not looking back to see if I was following him or not.

  
The days went by like this. I slowly got to know him more and more but something was still missing. I just needed a small information, a name or a half sentence that would help me break into his shell. Just a small crack on the perfectly built walls that hid his real self from me.

I wanted to grasp him. I wanted to take a firm hold. I wanted to know that part of him that he didn't seem to show to many people. I knew him for more than a month now and I still couldn't understand him. I knew something must have happened in the past that made him the person he was now. Still, no matter how I tried, he didn't want to open up.

He even came less and less to the store. The only reason I could imagine was that he started avoiding me for some reason.

  
Soon, I got some valuable information from his friend. He suddenly showed up at my university one day. He was curious who I was and since Ilhoon didn’t really talk about me, he had to see me with his own eyes.

The information he told me was his workplace. Ilhoon worked in a bar five days per week, usually at night. It wasn’t far away from the place my friends and I used to eat so I waited there until it was time for me to go. I didn’t exactly know what time his shift started and my friends didn’t let me leave too early so it was almost midnight when I got there.

When I went in, I started searching for him with my eyes. Apparently, he noticed me before I did. He waved at me. He told something to the girl next to him who just nodded and grinned at me.

I panicked. _I came here, but why?_ It happened on a whim. I just got the name and the address of the place and I just came here. _He’s going to kill me,_ I thought and I just wanted to run away.

Actually, I did. I ran away. More exactly, I went out when he wasn’t looking and crouched down next to the door. I didn’t know if I should leave or I should wait for him. I didn’t want to meet him ever again after this shameful attempt or whatever that was. Showing up at his workplace without a plan was the worst idea I’d ever had.

"There you are," Someone ruffled my head. "It's cold outside. You could've just waited inside."

"I didn't want to be in your way," I straightened. "Also, I noticed you’ve been avoiding me lately."

"I don't," he grumbled.

"You do," I kicked him gently in the shin. "This reminds me," I chuckled, "when we first met you kicked my back."

"I did?" A soft smile appeared on his face. _It was new._ "It didn't hurt, did it?" he raised one eyebrow.

"No, it didn't."

He sighed dramatically. "Too bad."

"What?" I laughed.

"How did you know I work here?"

"Ah!" I scratched the back of my head. "I met Changsub hyung and he told me."

"That idiot," he murmured. “Anything else he told you?” He sounded defensive.

“No, he just wanted to see me and asked some questions about me.”

He looked relieved.

 

He left earlier from work and I told him I'd walk him home. He first protested but he accepted my offer in the end. We reached his apartment. That old basement he liked so much. We talked about it once when I asked him if living there wasn’t bad for his health. He said he didn’t care. He liked that apartment more than he cared about his health. But why did he like it that much? He had enough money to move to a bigger place.

"You could've gone home. It's already late," he said, standing before the door.

"I would’ve been worried if I did," I said and before I could've changed my mind, I leaned closer, pushing him against the door and _kissed him_.

I did it without thinking and once it happened, I could just hope he wouldn’t hate me for it.

_I love him._

The realization hit me.

Was love the perfect word for that feeling? At that time, I felt like that was the word that was the closest to what I felt. It wasn’t just out of curiosity, it wasn’t just attraction caused by his pretty features. It was something deeper. A voice in me said that I just confused my desire to find the real him with love and what I really felt wasn’t love. I suppressed this voice inside me. _I wanted to believe what I felt was love._  
  
He didn't resist. On the contrary, he kissed back. He grabbed my waist and pulled me closer. He sighed into the kiss.

"You should go," he said, panting. Both of us were out of breath. "And never do that again," he said and went in.

I still couldn't understand anything. It seemed I wasn't indifferent to him. _Then why?_

This also made clear one thing for me. _It was love in a romantic sense._

 

I went again to his workplace a few days later. "You worked hard," I said, smiling at him and handing him the bag I was carrying since I left the bookstore.

"What is this?" He raised an eyebrow.

"A gift."

He looked inside the bag and I could see him blush. His eyes twinkled. "This is…" He sighed. "I can't accept it, Sungjae."

"Yes, you can." I didn't want him to return the book. "You said you can't come this week. It's new." He took out the book and ran his fingers over the title. "You told me you liked this author."

"Yes, but-"

“Shh,” I winked. “The store is boring without you.”

“Sungjae, I’m just a customer,” he rolled his eyes. “I don’t spend there more than ten minutes each time.”

I had to laugh. “Ten? You spend there at least thirty minutes.”

“Thirty…?” His eyebrows rose. The number surprised him. 

I nodded. “Thirty.”

“And how do you know that?”

We began to walk to the bus stop.

“It’s a secret,” I chuckled.

“Creepy,” he said, sticking out his tongue.

I laughed. I looked at his hand next to his body. I just wanted to hold it.

"Say, have you ever been in love?" I asked suddenly, lowering my head.

He hesitated before he said yes.

"I'm gonna be honest with you, okay? I think I love you," I glanced at him.

He remained silent. He looked like he could cry at any moment. He pressed his lips together and held the bag with the book to his chest.

I fucked up.

He waited with me for my bus and when it arrived, he said goodbye without looking up.

 

"Wanna come to my place?" I leaned closer. A week had passed since my confession. He never mentioned it even though we met after that, and not just once.

He was deep in thoughts just like almost every time we met lately. When my face got close to him, he suddenly jumped back, yelping.

"So close, Sungjae," he pushed my face back. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. What did you ask?"

"I asked if you want to come to my place," I repeated.

"Ah, thank you for inviting me but I don't think it'd be a good idea," he said, staring at his feet. The bus still hadn't come. It was one of the coldest days in that month.

I glanced at his hands. One of his hands were in his pocket, two bags in the other. I wanted to reach out and hold his hand. Or even better: holding hands while they're are in my pocket. That would have been _cute._

However, I didn't do anything. He was still keeping that distance from me so I thought I shouldn't push myself on to him. I might have liked him but I knew when to stop.

"I wish we could see the stars," he sighed, staring at the sky.

"Do you like stargazing?" I wasn't looking at the sky, I studied his face instead. I could tell he was _longing for someone._ This longing had been always there.

"Not really," he shrugged. "Sometimes me and Ji-" he paused and lowered his head. "Not really. You?"

_Ji-_

_It must be a name,_ I thought. The crack on his perfect shell I was waiting for. That meant he really was longing for someone. I wanted to know who he was longing for. An old love? A friend from the old times? Or was it someone he could've never had? _I wanted him to look at me. Look at me and see only me._

_Who are you longing for, hyung? Is it someone you love?_

"Not really," I said, looking up.

I had the same feeling I had when I first met Changsub and thought he was his boyfriend. I still didn't give it a name even if it was painfully obvious.

"If you'd see a shooting star, what would you wish?" I asked.

"I-" he took a deep breath. "I don't know." Those words sounded like he wasn't telling the truth.

"Isn’t there something you've always wanted to buy but never had enough money for? Or someone you want to see?"

He stiffened. "I'd probably ask for some money, I guess?"

_Liar,_ I thought. It was so obvious he lied. He had been acting strangely since I confessed to him and I didn't know why. He never rejected me. He didn't even give me a proper answer. Not like I was waiting for one. But I thought after telling him how I was feeling - though I still had doubts sometimes if it was love or something else - he would say something. For example, he'd tell me it was mutual or the opposite, he'd tell me he couldn't reciprocate my feelings. I would've been okay with both.

But he didn't say anything.

"You're selfish, you know?" I said out loud.

"Why?"

"You're afraid you'd get hurt again, huh?"

"What do you mean, Sungjae?"

"I told you I love you, right? Why don't you say something?" My voice was like a whisper. "Selfish."

He just laughed. The bus arrived at that exact moment. He got on and I hadn't seen him for four days. I didn't go to work and honestly, I was glad because that meant I didn't have to meet him. I knew I was being childish for sulking over something like this but I just couldn’t help it.

However, I had to go to work on the fifth day of my sulking. In the meantime, I realized we never exchanged numbers. I only knew where he lived and we always met at the bookstore or at the bar or just ran into each other on the street so it wasn't needed.

I wondered if he'd have called me if he knew my number. I wanted to believe that he cared that much. I wanted to believe that he would worry for me if he didn't hear about me for a few days.

Maybe he was worried. I never asked and he never told me.

He showed up at the bookstore. He was just searching for books, however, I couldn't not notice how he glanced at my direction every once in a while. Then he picked up two random books from the romance section and headed toward me.

"I thought you hated romance," I said.

"I do," he replied and when he looked at the books, he blushed and turned away.

"If you wanted to talk to me, you could've just come here. You didn't want to buy any books, am I right? Let alone this two," I chuckled.

"I wanted them. They looked interesting," he said, cheeks burning.

I sighed. "I'm sorry. For calling you selfish. I was childish."

He just shook his head. “It’s okay.”

"I missed you," I wanted to see his reaction for my straightforwardness.

He just hummed and smiled. He paid for the books and left.

  
Everything seemed normal after that. We met, talked, sometimes ate together. I also went over for a few times. He still didn’t mention my confession but he didn’t look like me loving him bothered him.

I was at his place, sitting on his bed next to him, talking about the books he wanted to read when it happened. I loved listening to him talking about books. He was so _alive_.

This feeling was so overwhelming, I did it again without thinking. _I kissed him._

I got scared and pulled back. He looked into my eyes like he was waiting for what I planned to do next. It was like he let me decide if I wanted to continue or stop.

His breath was hot, it burned my skin. I wanted to feel his lips on mine again so I leaned closer and kissed him, this time more passionately. It started getting sloppy and messy, we were panting, eyes half-lidded, limbs tangled.

This is bad, a part of me tried to warn me. I knew I should stop or it would just make things more complicated but now that I had him, I just didn't want to let go. I didn't pull back. I let his tongue lick my upper lip and when he bit it, I even moaned into the kiss.

But before it could turn into a heated make-out session or more, he pulled back, his eyes welled up. I didn't know how to react. I couldn't imagine what made him cry. He hid his face behind his hands.

"I'm sorry," he started. "I didn't want to play with you. I didn't want you to misinterpret something. I'm trying to be as careful as I can yet things like this keep happening."

"Hyung, it's okay. It really is," I stroke his hand. Was it a lie? Or did I really think it like that? I didn't know.

He straightened and crossed his legs. He let out a sigh. "Do you want to eat something?"

I observed him silently. He looked sad which didn’t make sense. I thought he enjoyed it. _Then why?_

"Somehow you're really strange today."

He turned his head toward me. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't tsked,” I tried to imitate him but I failed miserably.

He laughed. "Tsk. Now go home," he closed his eyes and rested his head on the headboard.

"No way," I chuckled.

 

I was sitting on the bus, looking out of the window when I noticed him. He was with Changsub. The older man must have teased him because Ilhoon said something grumpily and kicked his friend. The other ma just laughed and teased him more.

He didn't come to my workplace in the next few days. And neither did I. I missed his company, but I thought it wasn't that bad to spend some time away from him. Ever since I realized I loved him, this feeling just became too overwhelming.

_So our relationship will be like this from now on, huh,_ I wondered. _Close but not close enough. Wanting to give it a try but giving up on it as soon as it became_ _uncomfortable._ I wondered how could we get along this well so far. How could we still hang out together? We seemed _dysfunctional_  together _._

 

I couldn't describe how I felt when we met again. He was leaving the store when I bumped into him. He had heavy bags in his hand just like the day I went over and he made hot chocolate. It felt like it had happened years ago when in reality it hadn't been more than four months since we first met.

"Hyung!" I felt so happy.

"Sungjae?" His eyes widened.

"I'll help you," I said, taking one bag out of his hand. He let me do it this time, not like back then when I had to run after him. We almost arrived at his apartment and neither of us said anything.

"Are you trying to distance yourself from me?" I broke the silence. "You've been avoiding me lately."

"I-" Ilhoon sighed. "I needed time."

"For what?"

"I don't know. I just wanted to think about everything that has been happening to me lately."

I knew what he meant by that and he knew that I knew, that's why he didn't say more. My intentions were crystal clear. I'd never hid them from him. I was just waiting for his final decision.

 

I decided to visit him the next day. When I knocked, Changsub opened the door. He told me when he had arrived, Ilhoon was already away but he still invited me in. _Waiting for Ilhoon together is so much more fun,_ that was he said.

"I'm still surprised," we were sitting next to each other.

I didn't say anything, just waited for him to continue.

"You're the first person he invited over outside his old friends. How much do you know?" he asked, leaning back.

"It depends."

He stared at me for a long minute. "I don't want to say too much since it's something he should tell you when he's ready but..." he paused.

I felt more excited than I should have. I only knew there was a guy he was going out with and there was someone whose name started with Ji. And then there was that someone he was longing for. I didn't know if they were the same person or they were different people. I never asked. I just couldn't bring myself to ask him about his past. I told myself I can wait until he was ready to tell me everything.

"You know, his boyfriend died two years ago," he said. Suddenly I felt nauseous. "Jiwoon lived here originally but Ilhoon spent here most of the time so he was literally living with him. At that time I think they weren’t dating, it probably happened after Ilhoon moved here." He threw his head back. "He only moved in officially after he graduated from high school." I felt like I was in a bubble and couldn't make contact with the real world. "He's been living here since then."

"He-" I let out my breath I was holding in. It burned my throat. "He's trapped himself inside his grief, hasn't he?"

He nodded. "Since then he's hard to approach and he doesn't want to be attached to anyone. He only keeps in touch with us, his old friends from the old times."

That was when I finally understood why he was acting the way he was. That longing gaze whenever he looked up at the sky, why he didn't want to leave this place even though he could have. It was all crystal clear now. I thought it was because he got hurt before so he didn't want to get hurt again. I even called him selfish and he just laughed it off. He wasn't selfish. That wasn't the case. It wasn't about not getting hurt. I'd been sulking for days because he didn’t say anything. Now I regretted everything.

He just didn't want to forget. He didn't want to leave. He trapped himself in the past by living in the same place he did with his boyfriend.

I felt so sad as never before. _So that was his secret, huh?_

Before I could've asked more, Ilhoon got home. He looked surprised, seeing us on his couch, beer on the table. He tsked and glared in our direction.

"Changsub hyung," he started in a warning tone. "Can you not randomly show up at my place whenever you want?"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he said.

"Sungjae, why did you come?" He looked at me now. "I thought you have class.”

"It got canceled," I replied.

"Then why didn't you just, you know, go home?" He rolled his eyes. "Okay, both of you go home, I want to sleep."

I stood up but Changsub didn't move. _He must be someone special to Ilhoon,_ I thought with a little bit of jealousy. That was when I first gave a name to this feeling. I was jealous. I was jealous of Changsub. And I was even more jealous of Jiwoon.

I lowered my head. I couldn't look into his eyes after hearing about his past. I started walking to the door but he grabbed me by my wrist before I could leave.

"I've changed my mind," he said suddenly. "Hyung, you go home. Sungjae, sit back."

Changsub raised his eyebrows. "Hm, that's interesting." He stood up and patted Ilhoon's shoulder. "I'll call you later." He waved at me before he left.

Ilhoon threw out the empty beer cans and sat down next to me, putting his feet on the table. "What did he tell you?"

"Huh?" I wasn't sure if I should tell him. Maybe it was something he wasn't ready to tell me yet. If that was the case, telling him that Changsub told me about his boyfriend would just force him to tell me now, no matter if he was ready or not. But I couldn't lie. Not to him. "He told me about your boyfriend. Jiwoon."

He flinched hearing the name. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his hands in his lap. "I see," was all he said.

"You don't have to talk about him," I said gently. "It's something hard to talk about, right? I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you. You'll talk about him when you're ready or you won't talk about him at all. I'm okay with both."

He opened his eyes, jaw clenched. I waited.

"Wanna stay over? You can sleep in my bed," he said after a few minutes.

"I-" I didn't see any reasons why I should stay. This offer was unexpected, especially from Ilhoon. That meant something must have happened and he didn't want to be alone. "Yes. But I'm okay with the couch. Sleep in your bed."

And what now? I rubbed my arm. It was still early afternoon and we'd already decided I'd sleep there. We still had a lot of time before that and I just didn't know what to do. It was the first time we spent the whole night together. Our relationship was full of running into each other in the most random places. We sometimes had plans together like when we went to buy him a bookshelf but nothing like this

"I ordered pizza before I got home," he said. "I was craving for pizza all day."

It didn’t feel like the real Ilhoon. Or more exactly the Ilhoon I knew. Since I didn’t know the real him. But I knew he needed me so I stayed by his side. We read books, ate pizza, talked about my plans after university again (they hadn’t changed, I still didn’t have any plans). He asked about my friends and I told him about that fight that caused everything. _If that didn’t happen, now we wouldn’t know each other._ That was the only thing I could think of as I was telling him more about the fight.

He dozed off while he was reading the book I gave him as a gift. His head fell on my shoulder. I froze. He was so close to me yet I still couldn't grab him.

I looked around, trying to calm down.

_Pictures._

When I first came here, I felt like something was missing.

_Pictures._

There was none.

"Hyung, you should go to bed," I poked his cheeks. Somehow it became suffocating to be in that basement apartment. It felt like I was invading their life. His and Jiwoon's life.

He opened his eyes. "Sungjae?" He wrapped his hands around my arm and snuggled against me.

I lifted him in my arms, took him to his bed and tucked him in it.

He yawned, his eyes barely open. "I'm glad you stayed. Thank you," he said, closing his eyes slowly. His breath soon became steady. He fell asleep.

I swallowed a sigh that was halfway up my throat. He was so pretty even in his sleep. I couldn't help but stare at him. I caressed his cheek before I left his "room".

Something definitely had happened, I just knew. He wasn't his usual self. First of all, he only tsked once, which was surprising and even that one felt empty and just a habit. There was only a little frustration in his voice and a little coldness in his eyes. Even the emptiness disappeared from them. _They just looked lifeless._

I didn't sleep too much. I was just lying there, staring at the ceiling almost the whole night. One moment I was thinking about what Changsub had told me about the boyfriend who lived here, and the next moment, I was trying to find out what had happened that made Ilhoon that out-of-character.

It was almost four when I finally fell asleep. Even if I dreamt, I didn’t remember it. When I woke up I could swear I had a fever.

 

"Good morning," Ilhoon said with a smile that was too bright and wasn't him.

"Hyung, can we talk?" I sat up. I literally just woke up three minutes ago and my phone said it was only seven in the morning which meant I slept for like three hours. But I didn't feel sleepy at all. Maybe it was because of the excitement I had felt since I heard about his past. Maybe I was too worried to think of sleeping or being sleepy; _or just feel anything at all._

"Hm?" Ilhoon walked to me, coffee in one hand, a towel in the other.

"Did something happen yesterday?"

The cup fell out of his hand and broke as it reached the ground. He tensed. He took a deep breath and gulped loudly.

I get up to pick up the shattered pieces from the ground before one of us would step on them accidentally. Ilhoon just stood there, looking down. I threw out the broken cup and walked back to Ilhoon. I lifted his head up by his chin. His eyes were wet.

I didn't say anything just pulled him into a hug and let him cry. This was the first time when not just his height and appearance made him look fragile. I wanted to say something, anything but couldn't find the perfect words. I didn't want to say it's gonna be okay because there was no guarantee it'd be. I just wanted him to know that I was there for him, no matter what.

Ilhoon pulled away after he stopped crying. "Sorry," he said, voice raspy. "I-" He looked unsure. "Let's sit down," he said and I followed him.

We were sitting next to each other. The coffee was still on the ground, we could smell the strong scent of it. It made me sick.

"I tell you everything," Ilhoon started. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees. "We met when I was fifteen. He was two years older than me and just moved into the house next to ours. When we first met it was just two neighbors meeting for the first time. Then a few days later, we met again on the balcony. He was smoking and I told him he should quit if he didn't want to die early. He just laughed and said that we'd all die anyway, age really didn't matter. We started talking and before I knew, it became something we did every day. Even though we went to the same school, we had rarely met there. So the balcony was our special place. We shared everything about ourselves, even things we had never told anyone, not even our friends," he paused and rubbed his eyes. "I knew his relationship with his parents was very bad. I sometimes heard them shouting and fighting. After we became friends, he sometimes slept at my place. I let him sleep in my bed for the first few times then somehow I ended up next to him and slept with him every night. We spent more and more time together in school and I don't know, it just felt natural to me? I mean, we were friends. Yeah, both of us boys, but it was a very precious friendship. Soon rumors started spreading about us but neither of us cared. Then one day, when he was nineteen, he disappeared. No one knew where he went, not even our closest friends. I was sad. I had no one like him," his head fell on my shoulder. "Then after a month, I ran into him after school. He told me he missed me but didn't want me to get involved in this so he didn't tell me anything. He also told me he moved into a basement apartment and told me to come over sometime. So I came, again and again, almost every day, and it just happened one night? We kissed and had sex. And it just felt right?" He smiled softly. "Deep down both of us knew this would happen. It was inevitable." He sighed. "We started going out. We didn't tell this anyone but our friends knew there was something going on between us. This is why Changsub hyung called him my boyfriend and not just a friend. All five of them knew and looks like they were okay with it." He laughed but it sounded empty. "I moved here after I graduated from high school. I was happy, you know? I loved him since the first time we met on the balcony. He sounded so carefree and I admired him for it. He was so intelligent. You could talk about everything with him. He was open-minded, kind, a little rebellious. He wanted the world to be a better place. He was interested in politics and science. He also liked the arts. He wanted to go to uni and just had enough money for it when-" Tears filled his eyes. "He was on his way back home from the bookstore. He told me he would get me something to read," he paused and pressed his lips together before he continued. " He got hit by a motorbike. The man was at fault."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

Ilhoon shook his head. "I met that man's wife yesterday."

I let out a harsh breath. "Did you speak to her?"

Ilhoon nodded. "She came to me and asked if I was okay. She remembered me." The emptiness in his eyes could have sucked the whole world in. When we first met, I compared them to a cold winter night with foggy air and cloudy sky where the stars couldn't be seen. They were empty and cold. Though I'm still not sure if something that is empty, can still be cold. But they were. There wasn't any light in them, this is why it was a starless sky. Now I only could compare them to the universe. The better you know it, the more you wanted to know. They were mysterious but if you searched for long enough, they held many answers. I wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer. "I feel guilty every time you're here." He folded his arms. "This was our home. His and mine. And when you're here I feel like I'm cheating on him. I hate this feeling. I hate you being here. I can't-"

"You can," I interrupted him. "You can move on. You have to. It doesn’t mean you leave him behind. He’ll still be with you. Wherever you go, whatever you do, he’ll be with you."

Ilhoon just shook his head, crying. "Don't you understand?"

"I do. This is why I think you just destroy yourself by living here. That's unhealthy."

A slap.

He hit me. It wasn't painful. It probably wasn't the physical contact that burnt my skin where his hand touched my cheek. No, it definitely wasn’t physical. "Go home, Sungjae."

"Hyung, you know I'm right."

"Just go home," he shouted and stood up, pointing at the door. "And never come again."

"I just want to help, why can't you understand?"

"Go home! Now!" He drew in a long breath. "I knew this would happen. I knew you'd just mess me up even more."

"Hyung," I stood up as well. "Look, I- I'm sorry, I just wanted to help."

"Go home," he said, his voice distant. The coldness in his eyes from the first day was there again, jut more intense this time.

_Empty and cold. Lonely._

_Please, no. Don't look at me with those eyes._ I wanted to tell him this. I wanted to say something. I wanted to convince him I was right and could help if he'd let me. I really wanted to help.

I opened my mouth to say something but I changed my mind as I thought maybe it'd be the best to leave and let him calm down. I planned to go back the next day and apologize properly.

 

Ilhoon didn't open the door the next day. Or the day after that. He didn't open it even five days later. Every time I went there, I just sat on the stairs, waiting.

On the sixth day, someone ruffled my hair as I was sitting there. It reminded me of the night when I first went to the bar and thinking that my eyes would meet those cold brown eyes, I looked up.

It wasn’t him. Changsub smiled at me brightly.

"What are you doing here, kid?" he asked and sat down next to me.

"I want to apologize. I said some hurtful things to him," I confessed. "I just wanted to help him but the events took some unexpected turn and it didn’t go as how I planned."

"I know," he patted my thighs. "But he isn't home. He asked me to check on the apartment."

"Where did he go?" I sounded more worried than I intended.

"He went home."

"Ho-?" My eyes widened. "To his parents?"

He nodded." They didn't talk to Ilhoon after he moved out. They wanted to stop him and they told him being friend with Jiwoon would only ruin his life. His parents were friends with Jiwoon's parents. Ilhoon probably told you about Jiwoon's and his parents' relationship." I nodded. "They only met once since Ilhoon moved here. At the funeral."

_Funeral._ I repeated the word over and over again in his head. I couldn’t imagine what Ilhoon felt when it happened or how losing the most important person in your life felt.

"He never told them they were going out. Well, not like they told us even though we were their friends," he laughed. "Anyway, he decided to go and talk to them properly."

"When did he leave?"

"Three days ago, I think," he smiled at me. "It's all thanks to you."

"What do you mean?"

"You made him realize that the way he was living now would just destroy him. He was grasping onto Jiwoon's memory so desperately and just couldn't accept reality. Then you came." He played with the sleeve of his hoodie.

"And ruined his life even more."

"Not at all. You really don't get it, huh?" He laughed. "He loves you, you idiot. Why do you think he didn't want you to come over or tried to avoid you in the beginning? Because he felt like he was cheating on Jiwoon."

"He said the same thing," Sungjae said, lowering his head.

"I told you about Jiwoon and even Ilhoon talked about him too, so I guess you already know how important he was to Ilhoon. But you know, it was the same the other way around. Their relationship was very special. If I say they were essential to each other I'm probably not exaggerating. Ilhoon was introverted and reserved in school. Jiwoon was vibrant and easy to approach. Opposites attract, huh?"

"How did you two became friends?"

"The three, more exactly the five of us met in an abandoned building. It used to be some kind of warehouse but no one used it anymore. My friends and I usually hung out there after school. One day, they went there as well. They told us they were just walking around and found that place. Soon we became friends and two other guys joined us. Ilhoon was the youngest, everyone babied him," he chuckled. "But even though we had this circle of friends, I've always felt like Jiwoon and Ilhoon lived in their own world. After Jiwoon disappeared, Ilhoon broke. He was looking for him everywhere. I've never seen someone as desperate as him. Then they accidentally met and everything was the same again. We still hang out sometimes, but now we had to come here. When Ilhoon moved here, we rented a room and spent a month with them." He sighed. "Then they started dating. They never told us about their relationship but all of us knew."

"Where are the others now?"

"At home. Ilhoon probably visited them." He crossed his ankles. "Only Jiwoon and Ilhoon moved here. And me too, after the accident."

"You've been taking care of Ilhoon hyung since then, right?" He nodded.

I looked up at the sky. _What kind of person were you?,_ I wondered. Ilhoon didn't want to forget. He didn't want to accept reality. He held onto his memories as much as he could, thinking that he can make them stay with him. He thought living in the same house they lived would get him closer to the person he loved the most. But all of these things were empty and useless. Maybe he knew. Maybe he knew none of these things would get them closer to each other. But he still did everything. Maybe it gave him short-lived happiness. Maybe he felt at ease. Maybe they really helped in some way.

"He's coming home tomorrow. Come again. He probably misses you," Changsub said and got up.

"I'll come again," I nodded, tears burning my eyes.

 

"You came," Ilhoon opened the door. He didn't look surprised. Either he suspected I came here every day or Changsub told him. Yeah, probably the second one.

"Can I come in?"

He nodded and stepped aside to let me in. "I just had lunch. There are still some leftovers, so if you're hungry…?"

I shook my head. "I already ate."

"Ah, okay." He rubbed his shoulder. "I made up with my parents. I even told them I dated Jiwoon hyung."

"How did they react?"

"They said sorry." He drummed his fingers on the table. "We also talked about my feeling. They asked me if I already moved on and I told them what you said about me living here and trapping myself in the past. They told me I should seek professional help and even offered their help. Mom said it's fine if I still love him but that doesn't mean I can't like someone else too." He leaned back in his chair. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For everything you've done for me so far." He tucked the corner of his shirt. "He's never coming back, huh?" He lowered his head. His whole body shook. "I visited him while I was home," he paused. "Home," he laughed bitterly. "I've always thought my home was where he was." I thought he was crying but when he looked up, I didn't see a single tear in his eyes. "I'm moving out." My jaw dropped hearing that. "I haven't found a place yet though."

"What about mine?" I asked without thinking. Well, I literally just blurted out the question.

"Yours? But we-" He looked tired. He sighed and nodded. "If it's okay with you."

"It's okay. It really is." I wanted to ask what he wanted to do with this small basement apartment but then I thought it would be better not to talk about that now. I'd find out it eventually.

"Thank you," he said again and leaned closer to kiss me.

I didn't know what name I should give to our relationship. Was it mutual love? Attachment? Or just one-sided love? What I felt was love but what did Ilhoon really feel? Did he really fell in love with me? Or was I just a replacement of Jiwoon? Was I a distraction? A simple moment of confusion between denying and accepting reality? A misunderstanding caused by his loneliness and confusion? I wasn't sure.

_He loves you, you idiot._ That was what Changsub said. I was hoping he was right but then I thought I could find the answer later. Now I just wanted to be with Ilhoon, no matter what the name of our feelings was.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on twitter yay: 6vanillakiss


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